I don’t know about any of you, but I find when inspiration strikes, hits, materialises… whatever you like to call it, it’s a bit like having that one mate who calls you up and you know, you’re in for an epically memorable night.

​We all know that one person who could turn a six pm Friday night bridge-club meet-up into a booze-filled weekend orgy for the over-eighties, right? Okay, maybe that was a slight over exaggeration—still, scientific probability says that if that scenario hasn’t already happened, it will.

Let that sink in for a moment…

Any-who, the point I was trying to make before I got side-tracked by a future my husband would probably like to have, is that no matter how shy you are, how introverted you might be, there’s always that one person who will get you behaving in a way you’d never thought possible. For clarity, let’s call her Nutty-Nora.

Before you know it, Nutty-Nora has you running around the dancefloor in nothing but your trousers with a weirdly euphoric feeling of invincibility as you sing along to Chumbawamba. Obviously, this is a metaphorical analogy which has absolutely no basis in reality whatsoever.

Well, that’s how it feels for me when I’m sitting in my little wooden hut in the garden and inspiration strikes. Nutty Nora hits me up with an offer I can’t refuse and I let loose. It’s not always whilst I’m in my hut, sometimes I’ll be driving to work, cooking dinner or listening to my husband talk about… whatever it is he talks about (I don’t know, football, I guess?).

At the first opportunity, I crack-open a notepad and get scribbling.

It’s such a fricking good feeling—not giving any fucks and letting go.

There’s sometimes another mate, though. The anti-inspiration, Sober-Sue. The boring, safe, moaning-mini with all the charm of a pufferfish having a resentful day. The one who bangs on your door after you’ve been on a no-fucks-given bender, when you’re feeling a little tired, in need of a nap and sustenance that contains more than just caffeine.

That’s the mate who not only likes to piss on the smouldering embers of your fire, but enjoys informing you about the horrific fiery accidents others have had whilst following the same endeavours as you.

Sober-Sue, my friends, is the evil twined arsehole of Nutty-Nora.

How do I avoid contact with the fire-pissing-poop-producer?

I don’t. I invite her in for a nice cup of tea and a natter.

Am I insane?

Well yeah, duh! You’re reading this blog… doesn’t take a genius to work that one out.

Anyway, where was I? I’ve digressed. Ah, yes... Sober-Sue might be the evil twin, but she’s just as important and should be allowed to visit too. You can’t expect to hang out with Nutty-Nora 24/7. She’s full-on. She’d drive you crazy. Sober-Sue is there to offer a little clarity, a little grounding.

The two go together like pickled onions and heartburn, kids and bogies, puppies and chewed shoes.

They’re two sides of a valuable coin. Without Nutty-Nora, inspiration would be like discovering a freshly melted tub of your favourite ice-cream—still edible, but rather disappointing. Without Sober-Sue inspiration can take you places you’d rather no one knew about—like naked dancing.

Find balance. Drop expectations. Allow inspiration to take you out once-in-a-while and then, when reality pops in for her visit, you’ll have a fresh batch of creative-produce for her to tidy through.

How long you want either of them to stay or how involved you want them to be is entirely up to you. ​